They All Lived: SPECIALS
by LadyWordsmith
Summary: Short stories, individual scenes, etc... from throughout the They All Lived story continuum that either wrote themselves afterward or did not fit within the main stories being written at the time, but are still important! Author's notes explain context.
1. Two Weeks

_**Well, as it's my birthday, this seems the perfect excuse—err opportunity, to post the first TAL Special! These are scenes and very short stories or pieces of stories written well after the originals or did not fit in the flow of the stories at the point where they happened. **_

**Author's Note:**_ Fulfilling a request of sorts. I received a comment once that it seemed fast that the first story (They All Lived 1: Not Even Worlds) skipped the two weeks between Winry's arrival and the scene where she essentially 'proposed' to Edward. Well, at the time that was how it wrote, and the flow worked for the story. Plus, I had no actual idea of what had happened during those days specifically. ;) Obviously that is no longer the case. So for those who wanted more early EdxWinry cuteness and development of that relationship, here you go! _

_

* * *

_

**January 17****th****, 1931 (Amestris 1926) **

Edward had to admit he found it a little disconcerting – though not particularly unpleasant – to have Winry watch him eat breakfast the next morning. Having her there was nice – especially after last night's little revelation – but she kept smiling, amused about something.

"You know," she finally commented with a giggle about half way through the meal, "Most guys outgrow eating like starving wolves when they finish puberty."

"So I'm special," Ed snorted, smirking over a forkful of sausage. "_Most_ guys go and get desk jobs. Al and I are always on the move, and it's not always by car or train."

"No need to get defensive," Winry teased. "It was just an observation. Besides, you look like you could use it."

"Way to not make a guy feel insecure," Ed countered. He didn't really mind. Banter with Winry was oddly comforting; it was one of life's constants from back home.

Winry shook her head and leaned over, kissing his cheek.

"No fair!" The words were garbled by a mouthful of food. "I can't kiss you back while I'm eating!"

"Well I can't make you choose between me and food," Winry chuckled.

Ed swallowed. "That would be cruel," he agreed, sitting up enough to kiss her _properly _this time.

Winry was smiling when they parted, her cheeks flushed. "That's going to take some getting used to," she said softly.

"Yeah," Ed couldn't help smiling back. "So," he glanced away briefly as he recovered his composure then looked back, "Now that we've established we've both been mooning over each other like idiots for seven years…"

"Longer," Winry reached out, playing with a stray lock of his hair as they talked.

"Okay, for so long everyone else noticed before we did," Ed corrected himself. He didn't move away from her hand. "Why _didn't_ you ever tell me how you felt, Winry?" He knew she had come to terms with her own feelings before he'd even been mature enough to accept that he _had_ any.

Her smile didn't fade but it shifted slightly, the expression sad and apologetic. "I didn't want to make things harder for you, Ed… to do what you had to. I didn't want you to hesitate when it was important, or change your decisions based on your feelings."

"But why not?" Ed pressed.

Blue eyes glinted knowingly. "Because you always act with your heart first and _then _think with your head. If you were distracted from doing something that should be done because you didn't want to, and it was my fault… I don't think either of us could have lived with that."

Ed wanted to disagree but Winry was right. He couldn't say for sure what he would have done, but could he have left Amestris and come back here again if he had known for sure that Winry loved him? Or would he have tried to go back for her? Hell, had he made the right decision anyway? They still hadn't managed to close the gate on this side, but no one had gone through again in seven years. "No," he agreed finally with a sigh. "It was hard enough when I left you behind as it was and even now I don't know if I made the right decision. But it was made a long time ago."

Winry's hand slipped from his hair down into his auto-mail hand, being the available one. "The past can't be changed," she agreed gently, "But that doesn't mean we can't make the most of what we have now."

"Optimist," Ed chortled. "I guess I should be grateful you missed me, or you'd probably be happily back in Central right now with someone tall, charming, and at least moderately good looking."

"Pessimist," Winry countered with a shake of her head. "I should say the same. It's not like there aren't girls in this world too."

"If you ask Al, he'll tell you I've never looked twice," Ed replied, hoping Winry believed it! Okay, so there were a couple of times he had looked _once._ Now he felt guilty about it, even though he knew he shouldn't. "And he tried to set me up a few times."

"What did you do?" Winry asked curiously.

"Hid," Ed smirked. "Okay I only did that once. But I'm not much of a date." He wouldn't have called any of the interactions he _had _actually had with girls dates per se. Not strictly speaking…

"I'd imagine not," Winry's smile said otherwise though. "It's hard to feign interest in someone and be anything more than polite when you're not interested."

"Speaking from experience?" Ed asked, grinning and glad to not have to talk about the very small number of women he had ever gotten close to on _any_ level. "I know you said there hasn't been anybody special, but don't tell me the guys in Central weren't dying to ask out a gorgeous and talented auto-mail engineer?"

"Well of course there _were_ a lot of interested parties," she preened jokingly. "But I meant it when I said there was nothing serious. I went out on a few first dates, but they just didn't have what I was looking for."

"And just what was that?" he asked, though he had some idea.

"Someone who could keep up with me, and who didn't expect me to give up being an auto-mail engineer to become an officer's wife," Winry smirked slightly. "Can you really see me attending teas and making small talk with the other wives? Organizing fundraisers; I know Gracia enjoys those things and I'm glad, but I'm nobody's housewife."

Ed laughed and smiled warmly. "It would be a real shame to deprive the world of the best auto-mail engineer there is."

Winry surprised him by blushing at the compliment. "Well maybe not _the_ best."

"Are you kidding?" Ed squeezed her hand gently with the auto-mail. "You said this thing was out of date, but look how well it's held up. I really can't imagine what improvements you've made that could improve on this design."

"You'll find out when you're well enough for me to attach the new ones," Winry promised, looking pleased. "It's fine tuning mostly, but based off adjustments I would have made in this set if you'd been around long enough for me to have time, and you don't look like you've grown a lot since then."

"Not a centimeter," Ed admitted wryly. "Don't tell me you've developed a taste for tall men."

Winry grinned wickedly. "Oh don't worry, I turned Jean Havoc down."

Ed regretted sitting up quickly a second later as his head throbbed painfully. "You… _Havoc_ asked you out?" If he ever saw the man again he was going to have words with him – with weapons!

Winry placed a hand on his chest, gently pushing as he lay back against the pillows. "He was very polite about it too, and I don't think he really meant it as much more than friends. You forget that I've been living in Central for seven years and working with the military. I've gotten a chance to spend a lot of time with old friends." As evidenced by the photographs she had shown him earlier.

Ed relaxed a little. Of course _Havoc_ would have asked out a gorgeous girl like Winry once she was old enough. Probably a lot of the boys at HQ had, and it wasn't like Ed had been there to protest or lay a claim…even if he'd been man enough too. "I guess I can't blame him," he chuckled, trying not to move his head. "Might still have to kick his ass though, just on principle for hitting on my girl." Damn it felt good to be able to say that!

Winry giggled. "If you ever get the chance I look forward to watching."

"Anyone else I should know about whose ass I have to kick?" Ed grinned.

Winry shook her head. "If I told you all the names, you'd spend the rest of your life getting through the list," she replied with a cheeky smirk. "Don't get jealous on me now, Edward."

Ed pulled her in close for another kiss. "You want to know the truth, Winry? I've always been jealous of any other guy getting your attention."

**January 18****th****, 1931 (Amestris 1926)**

Winry looked pensive when she came in to visit him that afternoon. "What's on your mind?" Edward asked, putting down the book he'd been pouring through. "Something bothering you?"

"Not really," Winry smiled at him as she sat down in the chair that lately was almost always occupied by her or Alphonse. "Not _bothered_ really. It's just strange. I was down in the village earlier and I saw someone who looked just like one of my auto-mail patients in Central. And I don't mean similar, I mean _just like_ him. Al warned me to expect it."

Ed nodded, understanding now. "There's a lot of people like that. The way my father explained it, both of the worlds have copies of the same people, basically. Only their memories and lives are different. The Alphonse I lived with in Munich for example; Alfons Hiedrich, looked just like Al does now, only with lighter hair like yours and blue eyes."

"Is there another you in this world?" Winry asked curiously.

Ed felt a twinge of sadness and shook his head. "There was," he admitted. "But when Dante sent me through the gate I ended up sharing his body. There was an attack on London, and a Zeppelin crashed right on top of us. I don't know entirely how I got back really, other than as I was lying there I managed to get my mind and soul back to _my_ body that was still in the gate."

Winry listened wide-eyed as he explained. "So the other Edward died?"

"Yeah," Ed nodded, "So Al and I are the only ones in this world. Though we've run into a lot of other familiar faces," he smiled. "In Munich Alfons and I lived in an apartment above a flower shop owned by Gracia, and Hughes is a police officer. They're in love here too," he added with a wink.

"I'm glad he's alive here," Winry smiled gently. "Who else have you seen?"

Ed explained about Fritz Lang and how he looked like Fuhrer Bradley. Winry laughed as he related that tale. "There have been others," he continued. "Some are just passing familiar. There are two Roma who looked like Scar and Lust too."

"That must have been disturbing," Winry chuckled, her expression going inquisitive. "What about me?"

From her tone, Ed wondered if Alphonse had already told her about this world's Winry. But he wasn't ready to go there yet. "Maybe," he replied vaguely, trying to toss it off lightly.

Winry gave him a mildly irritated look but didn't press. "Or maybe what you meant to tell me is you were too busy looking at all the other girls?"

"Wh-what? No I—" Ed objected. That wasn't what he meant!

Winry giggled and kissed him. Ed froze momentarily before melting into it. She enjoyed catching him off guard. It wasn't fair! Wait – what was he complaining about? Two could play at this game. Ed jerked her off balance so he could get his arms around her waist.

Being stuck in bed this time wasn't nearly so bad!

**January 20****th****, 1931 (Amestris 1926)**

Winry volunteered to take Edward's lunch upstairs when it was ready. It wasn't as if she wasn't going in that direction anyway. As much as she didn't want to seem rude to the Lannets, Alphonse had assured her that they understood she would really rather be spending time with Edward. Al had included himself in that statement, having been his usual sensitive self and insisting on giving them a good amount of privacy. They did spend time together the three of them, but he had a knowing look in his eyes when he told Winry he had plenty to keep him occupied.

Winry walked into Ed's room and was mildly surprised to _not_ find him in bed. Well, he _was_ capable of getting up. She shrugged and was setting the tray down on the bedside table when she heard the sound of flesh and auto-mail feet on the floor. She turned, smiling, and emitted a sharp squeak as she realized he wasn't dressed!

Ed must have just come out of the shower because his hair was still damp and he was wearing nothing but his under-shorts. He looked just as startled as she did; the towel folded over his arm hid nothing. He blushed. "I didn't know you were here."

Winry's cheeks felt hot, but she chuckled at his expression. "You know, after all the times I've worked on your auto-mail now seems a funny time for modesty." She had seen him in his shorts – _usually_ with a shirt of some kind - plenty of times.

Ed chuckled and shrugged. "I didn't know you were interested then."

Okay, so that _did _make a difference. "And now?"

Ed's grin broadened. "Now I wish our positions were reversed."

"Oh." Winry felt her body flush from the top of her head on down. The least he'd ever seen her in was her cover-alls after working on auto-mail. She supposed the mid-riff and bare shoulders had probably caught his attention after all, but the clothes here were a lot more conservative. Not that Ed had seen her professional outfits she usually wore to meetings with clients when she wasn't in the shop. Those really weren't that different from the dress suits here. "Don't you think that would be a little improper?"

"Like this isn't?" Ed laughed. "Should I be posing? Or should I just stand still for the rest of the day and catch cold while I drip dry?"

Winry relaxed, chuckling. "No, that would be a shame. Besides, your lunch is getting cold."

Ed smirked as he pulled a white shirt out of the wardrobe and pulled it on before coming back to the bed. "Can't let that happen. _That_ would be a shame."

**January 21****st****, 1931 (Amestris 1926)**

"These really do look pretty good for their age," Winry commented as she examined the arm and leg she had just removed from Ed's body a little bit earlier. "And the wear and tear you've put them through from the stories you and Al have been telling me."

"I've tried to maintain them as best I can," Ed shrugged. He was sitting on a chair for the moment. It was easier for removing and attaching the auto-mail, especially with the table next to the chair for doing fine tuning on the arm after it was attached. "It's been cleaned and oiled and repaired a few times. Al's pretty good with a wrench when he needs to be."

"I try," Al grinned from where he was leaning against the wall by the window, hands in his pockets, just keeping out of the way. "The hardest part has been keeping it from rusting. I know it's not supposed to, but with the number of dings and dents we've hammered out of it, there have been times when there have been exposed edges that weren't as smooth as they used to be."

"You know I can tell that by looking at it right?" Winry smirked.

Al blushed. "Oh, right. Sorry."

"I'm teasing you, Al," Winry laughed, setting the arm aside next to the leg and opening the auto-mail case she had brought with her.

Ed peered down curiously. Of course she had shown him the new auto-mail a couple of times, but he hadn't really had a chance to examine it in detail. It actually didn't look that much different. The alloy of the metal looked like it might not be quite the same, or at least parts of it weren't.

"Now I've made quite a few adjustments since your last design," Winry explained as she pulled the new arm out of the case and set it up on the table. "The lines are smoother, the edges a little more tapered to minimize chips, dents, and other rough edges that can cut or are prone to rusting. We've also been experimenting with different alloys and coatings to minimize things like rusting or other oxidation. The exterior pieces are hardened more so they won't get dinged up as much and provide better protection for the internal wiring." She knocked on the casing of the fore-arm to demonstrate. "It _should_ bounce bullets and most blades without more than surface scratches that can be buffed out."

"What do you think I'm going to be doing?" Ed joked, even though he was actually impressed. She knew _exactly_ the kinds of things they had been up to and had anticipated them.

Winry gave him a withering glance and went on. "I've redesigned the hinging on the knee, ankle, and toes on the leg, and in the elbow, the wrist, and the bearings in the joints of the fingers for smoother and, hopefully, more subtle movement. If you _wanted_ to you could probably write with this hand about as well as you do with your left... with practice," she added, chuckling.

"Well how about you quit talking and attach it and we'll find out?" Ed chuckled, trying to hide his impatience. He felt oddly vulnerable sitting there without his auto-mail attached. It hadn't been removed since Winry had attached it years ago and he wasn't used to not having the use of all his limbs anymore.

"You can't rush good auto-mail," Winry sniffed as she checked both pieces over carefully, making some minute adjustments before even putting them on. "Otherwise it won't last nearly as long or as well as it could." She pulled out a piece of string and measured the length of Ed's real arm and leg, then measured them quickly against the new auto-mail. "Perfect match," she grinned, sticking the string back in her pocket. "Certainly better than last time's guess work. Even the fingers are the right length to within a sixty-fourth of a centimeter or so I'd guess."

"Perfectionist," Ed grinned, though he really didn't mind. This was Winry's specialty, and she was always so alive and energetic when she got into her work. He had never realized just how much he liked watching her work. Usually, he guessed, because he had been too impatient for her to get finished so he could rush off. Well he wouldn't do that this time.

"Lucky for you I am," Winry smiled back. "All right, let's get these positioned. Alphonse, I'm going to want you to handle attaching the leg. Both ports at once is still the best way to go with these, and given Ed's still recovering from your last dust up, I don't think we should prolong the pain."

"I appreciate that," Ed tried not to sound snarky as Winry and Al got the limbs in place and ready to attach. Winry positioned the tools herself before getting into place up by Ed's shoulder. "All right; _on_ three. One, two, three."

The familiar pain shot through all of Ed's nerves in both limbs and he tensed and gritted his teeth, the only sound getting past them a short sharp gasp. "I'd forgotten how that feels," he murmured several seconds later.

"You want to lie down, Brother?" Al asked sympathetically.

"Yes please." Ed did his best to manfully hide the pain – as always – while Al helped him up and back to the bed, where he rested, head on a pillow while he waited for the worst of the pain to subside.

"You baby," Winry teased, though there was fondness in her eyes that softened her response. She sat down on the edge of the bed, while Al sat down on the other side. "Take it easy for a while. I'll make any more necessary adjustments when you feel up to it."

"You're being awfully kind," Ed smiled, but he closed his eyes and tried to relax his muscles in his legs, arms, and shoulders to ease the ache.

Winry giggled. "I'm always kind, Ed." Apparently she remembered the same old conversation.

"Do I need to leave again?" Al interjected, "Or would that be too dangerous?"

Ed didn't even dignify that remark with as much response as opening his eyes. It was too much effort. "Somehow I don't think we need a chaperone, Al," he retorted. "What am I going to do like this anyway?"

"Something drastic," Al suggested with a laugh. Ed was sure his brother was enjoying this little development in their lives just a little too much. Oh well, it wasn't like Ed didn't tease Al about girls.

"Yeah, and it'll involve testing my new auto-mail out on your face," Ed replied.

Al laughed. "You can try, but I recommend waiting until you can fight without getting dizzy, Brother."

Ed's eyes popped open suddenly again as something lightly brushed his nose, then his lips. Winry was leaning over him, despite Al's presence. "Or sit up quickly without getting dizzy for that matter."

Ed couldn't help smiling at Winry's playful expression. "If you keep that up, I'll be too dizzy to get out of bed ever again. Then what will you do?"

Winry picked up her wrench and toyed with it contemplatively, even as her expression suggested something else entirely. "Oh…I'm sure I can find other ways of getting you out of bed."

Ed tried not to blush as Al snorted then almost fell over laughing.

**January 22****nd****, 1931 (Amestris 1926)**

It was impossible for Winry to not enjoy the view this morning; lean muscle shining in the sunlight, golden hair that waved and swung when it moved, intense golden eyes focused in concentration, and the glint and clean lines of new auto-mail.

After breakfast, Edward had retreated out into a garden that held a beautiful fountain, though Winry knew Ed had picked it for its fairly open green space that allowed him room to move and work out. His pain and soreness from yesterday's auto-mail reattachment was gone, and he was apparently having a pretty good time putting it through the movements as he exercised.

Ed wasn't taking it easy on himself either. Despite the teasing yesterday he was healing up as fast as he always did, and putting himself through a reasonably rigorous exercise routine that had started off warming up with calisthenics but had quickly moved to fighting forms.

"Not that I'm complaining given the results," Winry asked after sitting on the edge of the fountain and watching Ed for half an hour while she tried to read. "But do you need to push yourself so hard?"

Ed finished a series of practice kicks and switched to blocks against an invisible opponent. "Gotta keep up with Al," he smirked without breaking rhythm or even his breathing pattern. "I have to keep in shape somehow, and without any kind of reliable use of alchemy, our fighting abilities are the best weapons we have against enemies."

That made sense. Winry was still getting used to the fact that there was no alchemy here. Edward and Alphonse without alchemy was such a hard thing to get used to, just because it had always been a part of who they were for as long as she could remember now. "So you don't use other weapons."

"Not by preference," Ed shook his head. "I'm a pretty good shot with a gun but I still don't have much use for one. Usually I'm not fighting to kill and I'm in close range."

That was actually comforting. Even after all this, and all the dangers they had faced, it was nice to hear Ed _not_ being a little too cavalier about killing and death. He had been so sometimes when he was younger – probably to hide his own unease she suspected – but it had bothered her. "You keep saying no _reliable_ use of alchemy," she shifted topics slightly. "But the way Al explained it there shouldn't be alchemy here really at all; with the energy going through the gate and all that." Winry followed most of the explanation, but alchemical theory was hardly her area of expertise.

Ed finished the set of punches and blocks and paused, breathing deeply but hardly winded. He turned and looked in her direction. "It's extremely difficult to pull off a transmutation here," he replied, taking the time to explain. "Though obviously it's not entirely impossible or Eckhart and her cronies would never have been able to open their side of the gate."

Winry nodded. "So how does it work, if the energy is flowing out of this world?"

"There are a few theories on that actually," Ed walked over and sat down as he talked. "Professor Bellos, a man we talked to in England recently, has specialized in some rather obscure research, but he found evidence of transmutation circles back hundreds of years and people studying alchemy despite limited understanding. So obviously some of it worked here too though it would seem most logical that energy that remains in this world – the general energy of it that is not created by violence – would have to be the source. Some say that the blood of the alchemist is an added key component; bringing in a tie to life."

"What do _you _think?" Winry knew that Ed and Al had devoted a lot of time to tracking down any information on how to make alchemy work in this world they could find, despite their other mission, or perhaps because of it.

"I know it's possible," Ed pointed out seriously. "Izumi mentioned once that in Xing they do alchemy differently than we did. I think she said they used the energy of nature itself, not gate energy – or at least not_ just _gate energy. It also seems likely that blood – or rather, a living sacrifice – is still necessary. Without the energy, the necessary exchange is much higher. I don't think it's _just_ the use of blood that matters." His brow furrowed. Obviously Ed had given this a lot of thought. "The natural energy isn't enough to do any large mutations. It's about the same difference in magnitude as trying to heal someone without a philosopher's stone is to transmuting a doll."

Winry understood the reference and equivalent difference. "So you need a…sacrifice?"

Ed shook his head. "I'm not really sure. Envy and Dad's deaths helped generate the gate on this side as material to open it, but there's not normally that kind of material on this side to make that even remotely possible. Though," he went right on, "the theories all seem to have been here, they just didn't have the energy to prove them. So that may be why alchemy was never taken seriously here."

Winry followed what he was talking about; at least until he began to talk about specific chemical equations, then she laughed and cut him off. "All right, I get the picture!"

"Sorry," Ed chuckled, his concentration broken. "You're the one who got me started though."

"And you could talk alchemy all month," Winry smiled. "It's all right. At least it explains why this is so important, but are you really expecting to be in combat again sometime soon?" It was something that bothered her, though she knew she should have expected as much.

Ed sighed and shrugged. "Yeah, I do. We're getting close to at least one of our goals if we can get a hold of Huskisson. I don't have time to lie around."

Winry kept her smile on her face even though she didn't entirely feel it now. "You never do." Despite the number of things that had changed, there were some things that likely never would.

**January 23****rd****, 1931**

From his vantage point at the hallway window Alphonse had a clear view of one of the Lannet's beautiful gardens. The house was surrounded by lovely expanses of landscaped ground with a variety of different garden styles. This particular side garden had several shade trees –mostly leafless this time of year- a couple of conifers, and a small pond with a bench beside it.

What made it interesting today, however, was that without the leaves on the trees and bushes Alphonse had a perfect view of the bench beside the pond where Edward and Winry were sitting, their backs to Al and clearly oblivious to his watching. Not that he meant to spy on the two of them, but he had been walking past the window when he spotted them.

At first they had been talking and standing by the pond; then they were sitting on the bench a little apart, moving closer together until now they were locked rather passionately together in each other's arms, kissing.

::Bird watching?::

Al looked up and found Mr. Lannet standing behind him with an amused smile. He chuckled. ::Lovebirds,:: Al replied.

Mr. Lannet peeked out the window as well. ::They are early this year,:: he commented drolly. ::Are you keeping watch on them for any particular reason?::

Al shrugged. ::I happened by,:: he admitted.

::Perhaps it is wise to keep watch,:: Mr. Lannet commented knowingly. ::New romance is full of passion.::

Al blushed but shook his head. ::I'm not worried about that,:: he replied. Oh there was _passion_ all right, but he knew Ed and Winry. Nothing _untoward_ was going to happen. ::I'm just happy for them.::

::You were all childhood friends,:: Mr. Lannet said, verifying what Al had told him before. ::Are you not, perhaps, a little bit jealous? You also feel strongly for the young lady.::

Al glanced back out the window. Watching them, he couldn't help but smile. ::She's like my sister,:: he explained. ::I had a crush on her when we were kids, but who didn't? They're really made for each other. They need this time now. It's been far too long in coming.::

Mr. Lannet smiled. ::So I see.::

**January 25****th****, 1931 (Amestris 1926) **

Winry knew it wouldn't last. As soon as Edward stopped having headaches at odd hours he and Alphonse started to focus in again on their current mission. It was important of course, and she insisted on being a part of the discussions so she could get a full idea of exactly what was going on. If she was going to get involved she wanted information.

"It's more like two missions," Alphonse explained as they laid out their notes and started to go over them for what Winry was sure was the hundredth time or more. "The one to stop Huskisson and his colleagues from using his Uranium bomb and research, and the other to find a way to close the gate." He had explained some of this before, but it had been a little disjointed and basic. While some of the information might be repeated

"Which one are you closer to accomplishing?" Winry asked.

"Take a guess," Edward snorted as he munched his way through a thick sandwich while he poured over the notes.

"He means it's kind of half and half," Alphonse smirked. "With Huskisson we're trying to find out where the current research lab is located, and he's the one who's been sent out the most often to find suitable scientists who might be amenable to that kind of research. He's picky. But he's the easiest to track and so we're hoping to find something out if we follow him long enough."

"Did they used to have another lab?"

Ed nodded. "They did," he groused. "But they moved it right before we knew where it was. There was nothing when we got there."

"We're pretty sure we got set up," Al sighed, nodding. "Huskisson knows we're here and now the Nazi's want us _dealt with._"

Winry swallowed. She didn't need to ask what Al meant. "So following him is dangerous." She understood now why Ed was lucky to have gotten out of the last fight with a concussion. "What will you do when you find the lab?"

"Destroy it," Ed replied as if it were that simple.

Winry looked between them. "And just how do you plan to do that?"

There was a long moment of silence. "We're not sure," Al finally admitted. "High explosives would probably be easiest, but only if it's not in a location where civilians might get in the way." Of course they wouldn't do anything that would hurt innocent people.

"And if you can't use that?"  
"That's the other reason we're researching this," Ed smacked one hand down on an open book.

Winry picked up one of the books of notes – this one written in Al's neat lettering – and her eyes widened. "This is alchemy." Or at least, it certainly looked like alchemy circles. Ed had mentioned that there had been studies of alchemy in this world even without the energy to do anything big. "But how would you pull off a transmutation big enough to handle a gate like that?" She still wasn't sure why the gate from Amestris that had brought her here had opened in England and not where ever Ed and Al's gate had been…Munich apparently.

"We're working on that," Ed replied as matter-of-factly as if he were discussing the weather, or maybe their next meal. He never took his eyes off the notes in front of him. "Explosives might be applicable there too."

"But only if we can figure out how not to blow up ourselves and everything else," Al interjected, shooting Ed a look Winry didn't quite get a read on. He looked back at her. "We don't know what that would do; if it would interact with the gate, or do something inside of it that could be a problem. All we really know about the inside of the gate is the sheer amount of pressure it exerts on anything trying to go through it and some of what lives inside it."

"Who knows what that might do," Winry agreed. She couldn't make much sense of Al's notes, but then she wasn't an alchemist and she suspected it was in code anyway. She closed the book and gave it back to Al. "So that's why you've been researching ancient myths and artifacts."

Al nodded, sitting back in the chair across from her at the table. "If there's any way to close the gate, it's probably going to have to be something at least reasonably similar to what opened it; but we're rather short of homunculi to sacrifice for it," his mouth twisted ironically. "And we can't be sure even explosives will give enough energy off that if we _could_ harness it we would have enough. We've been studying chemistry, physics… Ed's gotten to be quite the expert on rocketry… but so far it's not enough."

"Rocketry," Winry gave them both slightly puzzled looks.

"How the flying ships were powered to get through the gate that came to Amestris," Ed commented flatly around a bite of an apple. "Rocket engines. That's how they were able to burst through the pressure in the first place. They'll also be able to reach up into space someday."

"Well don't sound so excited," Winry sniffed. It sounded pretty incredible to_ her. _"I'd love to see how those work up close."

"Machine junkie," Ed snorted, though Winry thought she caught the hint of a smile at the edges of his mouth.

"You're no better if you know all about them before me," she pointed out with a small smirk of her own. "If you have any information on them I'd like to see it. If we're going to get this done than anything that could be useful should be studied in detail, right?"

At that Ed looked up sharply. "What do you mean _we_?"

_…and here we go. _Damn it, would some things never change? "I'm coming with you of course."

"It's going to be dangerous." Ed shook his head vehemently.

Winry crossed her arms. "Since when does that make a difference, Edward?"

For a moment panic flashed in his eyes. "Well you could go… or stay…" Ed was at a loss for reasonable suggestions.

"As I choose," Winry responded firmly. "I can't go home and I didn't come all the way here to be left behind again."

"Can we talk about this later?" Ed's familiar scowl had returned, only he looked more uncomfortable than she could remember ever seeing him.

"If you'll let me see your rocketry notes," Winry countered. She wasn't going to press for the moment, as much as she wanted to. Ed irritated her when he got like this, but he hadn't been too argumentative about her coming along on adventures before. This was something they were both going to have to learn to deal with.

"Now that that's settled," Al smiled weakly, "maybe we can get back to business?"

"Of course," Winry nodded. "Sorry, Al." She hadn't meant to derail the conversation. "So where does all this leave us?" she gestured at the information laid out before them.

"Munich," Ed replied. "We're fairly certain that Huskisson is heading back to Munich this time."

"He's probably there by now," Al nodded. He'd had plenty of time with Ed out of commission to get ahead again. Winry could see that even Al was frustrated by that fact.

"Is he likely to leave again?" Winry felt like all she was doing today was asking questions.

Ed shrugged, finishing off his meal. "Eventually. He almost always does, but catching him at a point where we can find where they've got their laboratories is the hard part. They're too secretive." He dropped his auto-mail fist down on the table with an irritated thump. "I hate wasting time!"

Winry laid her hand over his auto-mail one. "You're hardly wasting time," she pointed out calmly. "Better to go into a fight at full strength than falling over because you get dizzy right?"

Al chuckled and finally Ed cracked a smile. "Yeah," he shrugged. "You have a point. We've been close before. This time we know where he's going and it's someplace we know well."

Al nodded positively. "Don't worry, Ed, we'll get him!"

**  
January 26****th****, 1931 (Amestris 1926)**

After all the kindness their hosts had shown them, Winry had suggested to Edward and Alphonse that it would be good to thank them in some way. In the end, they agreed that serving up dinner – Amestrian dishes since it was most of what Winry knew –would be a great way to say thank you.

With Ed doing better, the three of them went into the village and picked up all the fresh produce they would need for supplies. It was a pleasant trip, despite the chilly air and cloudy weather. Winry grinned at Ed when he suggested she wear his coat when she got cold, and firmly insisted that if he didn't want to get sick on top of recovering from injury he should wear it himself, though she appreciated the gesture.

Winry could not remember the last time the three of them had cooked something together in the kitchen, though she was certain that it was back before the boys left Resembool after Ed's auto-mail surgery and recovery. So it had probably been during that time, even if the last time they had all _eaten_ together was before the boys went off to train with Izumi.

The menu was simple: stew, fresh bread, and a lemon meringue pie. Winry giggled when she caught Ed with his nose over the stewpot. "You can wait until that's finished," she scolded, snapping a wooden spoon off the rim of the pot right in front of his face.

Ed jumped backwards. "Hey! Watch it with that thing." His stomach growled audibly. "Can't you make that cook any faster? I'm hungry!"

"It smells fantastic," Al agreed as he helped by kneading the bread dough. "It smells like home."

"Thanks," Winry smiled at Al as she stirred the pot. "It takes as long as it takes, Ed. Would you _rush _culinary genius?"

Ed smirked. "Of course not; but this is stew!"

Winry refrained from swatting at him again. She'd left herself open for the quip after all. "If you feel that way about it than you don't have to have any."

For a moment Ed looked stricken, like he thought she might be serious. "You wouldn't deprive an injured man of sustenance?" he asked, grinning again a few seconds later as he stepped up beside her and slipped an arm around her shoulders.

"I will if he insults my cooking," Winry smiled sidewise at him.

"All right, I apologize," Ed leaned in. "How can I make it up to you?"

He really would do anything for food, wouldn't he? Winry gestured towards the other counter. "You can separate and whip all the eggs we need for the pies, and squeeze the lemons."

"As you wish," Ed smirked, with a rather uncharacteristically playful bow. Then he winked at her. "But only because I know it won't turn out right if I don't."

"Because Ed's a cooking expert," Al snorted. "I think this dough is ready, Winry." "I'll be right there." Winry gave the pot a last stir then went to see how Al was doing. "It looks great, Al," she said. "Roll it into loaves and into the oven with it."

"You've got it," Al replied eagerly, stepping back into place and reaching for the dough.

"I'm not the only one who appreciates a good meal," Ed snickered from the other side of the room as he started cracking eggs.

"You try living without taste buds for four years and see how you like it," Al retorted. "At least I eat slowly enough to appreciate the flavor."

"Who says I don't appreciate it?" Ed asked.

"Do you even _remember_ it later?" Al laughed.

"My tongue does," Ed smirked.

Winry went back to her stew pot, enjoying the sound of brotherly banter. It was the smells that made the French kitchen feel like home to Ed and Al, but it was having them there that made it feel like home for_ her. _

**January 27****th****, 1931 (Amestris 1926)**

There was just something about Edward when he was asleep that was infinitely appealing. Winry hadn't meant to stay up watching him, but they had been snuggled up on his bed in his room, just talking after dinner, and he had drifted off to sleep. Despite his improvement, Winry knew he was still recovering.

Still, she hadn't been able to make herself get up and leave. Not just yet. She didn't want to wake him, and she couldn't help enjoying watching him; the even rise and fall of his chest, the gentle fluff of his hair that fell in his face, but moved slightly as he exhaled. It was the only time he was ever really peaceful, quiet, and still.

It was in those moments that she saw him most clearly. So many times in life she had watched Ed sleep; when he and Al would pass out after rambunctious play when they were little boys, or when Ed was injured and bedridden. Winry had spent more time by his bedside than she cared to consider, given how that had sometimes been the only way he held still long enough for her to see him at all.

In his sleep, Ed was open and easy to read, whether he was happy or upset. Tonight he seemed content, simply resting quietly with the occasional murmur of words she couldn't quite catch. He had always talked in his sleep too.

Winry couldn't help it. She reached out gently and moved a lock of hair that kept tickling Ed's nose. He sniffed, snorted, and then smiled slightly without opening his eyes. "Winry…"

She paused, heart fluttering just slightly. She felt silly as she smiled and sat back. "What?" she asked softly.

He surprised her by actually responding. "Love you."

Winry waited a moment then smiled when he seemed to still be asleep. "Love you too," she replied gently. She should probably go now, she thought.

"That explains it."

Winry paused, halfway up from the bed. "Explains what?"

Ed's eyes opened slightly and he smiled drowsily. "Why you've been sitting there watching me for an hour."

Winry blushed slightly in the lamp light. "I thought you were asleep."

"I was," Ed replied, yawning.

"So you should rest," Winry smiled, feeling bemused. She finished standing up.

Ed reached out and caught her hand as it lifted from the bedspread. "Don't leave."

What? He didn't mean… Winry smiled, brushing it off. "I'd like to get some sleep too you know."

Ed's expression didn't change. "I know." Winry felt her skin warming, and Ed chuckled. "What's wrong; afraid to cuddle?"

"Well no," Winry recovered a little. In truth, curling up in Ed's arms was a very appealing proposition. It felt good there. She fidgeted, pushing a lock of hair back behind her ear with her free hand. "It's just…"

Ed still had her other hand in his auto-mail one. "Stay with me." He didn't say anything else, but Winry could read a lot in his expression. Alphonse wouldn't assume anything; he knew them too well. Winry _was_ worried about what their hosts would think, but obviously that thought didn't bother Ed either. She didn't have to voice her concerns; his eyes held the answers.

"All right," she finally caved, sitting back down on the bed. "But only till you fall asleep again."

"I'm okay with that," Ed chuckled as she snuggled up against him. He pulled her into his arms. "I just don't want you to go yet."

Winry relaxed, smiling. She was still getting used to this side of Ed; the more mature, sensitive side that mostly came out when they were alone. "I don't want to go either," she admitted. Just a little more time wouldn't hurt. It wasn't really that late yet. Once Ed was asleep again she would go back to her own room.

At least, that was her intent until she drifted off to sleep first.

**January 28****th****, 1931 (Amestris 1926)**

For once, Edward could say that the good idea really was his. Tomorrow they were leaving the Lannet's home and heading back on the road; back to adventure, back to danger… back to life. Today, he wanted to do something special with Winry before chaos and duty took back over. He owed her at least that much and he wanted to spend as much time in the little haven they made for each other as possible while he could. Who knew what would happen tomorrow, or next week, or next month.

So at breakfast he invited her out for that afternoon. He felt his face flush hot as Al chuckled when he actually referred to the outing as a date – sort of – but that's what it was so why try and hide it? Winry accepted, smiling with apparently as much amusement as Al found in his slightly stammering offer.

Ed spent the rest of the morning upstairs getting ready. He had to admit he felt a little silly going through so much effort to walk into the village, probably wander around some and eat – he knew just where he wanted to take Winry – and walk back. The difference was in the nature of the company and the intent of the evening! He was showing a very special girl a good time. This wasn't something he had ever done before, and it was Winry.

"You actually clean up pretty good," Al teased him as Ed combed his hair out and pulled it back after a shower and shave. He'd put on his good tan pants, a good white button-down collared shirt, and a burgundy vest, and even taken the time to attempt to polish his well-worn brown leather shoes.

Ed sat on the edge of the bed as he finished tying back his hair. He didn't bother putting on a tie. He didn't much care for them if he didn't have to wear one, and it wasn't something Winry would care about. "Don't act so surprised," he smirked. "You're the one who kept telling me I was missing girls who were interested. They must see something they like, right?"

"So _now_ they matter," Al snorted. "Winry's not exactly one of those typical girls."

"Lucky me," Ed's grin slid into a more cocky expression. "At least with Winry I have some idea of what she considers a good time!"

"There is that," Al agreed, leaning back against the wall. "Just don't do anything I wouldn't do."

Ed laughed. "You've kissed more girls than I have, Al."  
Al grinned smugly. "Yeah, I know."

Ed felt his face flush a little then felt foolish. As much as it was sort of a first date, it was far from it as far as the relationship went right? It wasn't like he didn't know Winry better than most people already. The last two weeks had simply proven that Winry was still very much Winry, and the girl he'd thought he'd missed out on was crazy about him. Of course, he had to admit he might be _crazy_ to have fallen for her in the first place, but he could live with that!

He straightened his collar and smirked again. "Then maybe I should just keep tonight private and not tell you what we do; wouldn't want to stretch your standards further than you're comfortable with claiming."

It was Al's turn to blush as he caught Ed's meaning. "You wouldn't!"

Ed couldn't keep up the smirk; he shrugged uncomfortably and turned back to the mirror. "Winry would kill me if I even suggested it and you know it," he replied, surprised at the slight reticence he felt. He felt like a teenager again, but they _weren't_ kids now. They were adults. They had already acknowledged that they had feelings for each other. Last night… well he would never admit to his brother how much he had briefly wished he was bold enough to ask for more. Winry's body pressed against his, even fully dressed, stirred a completely different set of feelings; a heat that started down low in the belly and spread throughout his body. She felt good beside him.

"That's true," Al agreed with a chuckle. "So, last night…."

"Winry fell asleep on my bed while we were talking." That was all he was going to say on the subject. The fact that she _would_ have gone back to her own room if he hadn't talked her into staying longer was moot. They had both been entirely decent. He could see Al's reflection in the mirror before he turned around to face his brother directly.

Al looked amused. "I _was_ going to ask what you thought of the glaze on the chicken at dinner last night, but we could talk about that instead."

Ed almost choked. "Oh, right… it was good." So her leaving his room in the early morning _had_ gone unnoticed.

His little brother was enjoying this far too much. "Relax, Ed. Now go get Winry and show her a good time. She deserves it."

Ed picked up his suit jacket and pulled it on, then headed down the hallway to Winry's room. She answered after the first knock, and Ed's eyes nearly fell out of his head!

Winry wore a simple dress, classic line with a lightly ruffled v-neck and a skirt that came to just below the knees in a soft dusty shade of blue. It clung snuggly – like it might be borrowed and a size too small – but with her body that wasn't a disadvantage! Her hair was pulled up and pinned in back.

"You look great," Ed swallowed and tried to wet his mouth, which had gone completely dry. Trying to cover a moment's insecurity, he offered her his arm.

Winry smiled and took his arm. "Thanks. So, are you going to tell me just what you have planned?"

"You'll see," Ed replied vaguely as they went downstairs and put on their coats.

It turned out to be a simple enough afternoon, but highly enjoyable. They walked into the village and strolled through the market square, browsing stalls and shops. It was funny, Ed thought, to watch Winry doing something so very natural and feminine at the same time. Normally whenever he thought of her she was in her work attire, or the outfit he had seen her in last in Amestris, but always she was ready at a moment's notice to work on his auto-mail. This was the first time he could remember seeing her without her tool kit strapped on or in immediate reach.

While Ed was sure that if there had been any place selling tools in the market Winry would have been there first, and for hours, without one Winry seemed drawn to more traditional shopping venues; clothing, jewelry, and even art and book stores. She admired the silver in one shop, the clever wood work in another. It was all different enough from home, despite the similarities, that her eyes were bright with curiosity and enjoyment.

Fortunately for Ed, Winry wasn't the type to _buy_ everything she liked. That was part of his little surprise. He hadn't been able to think of a good present – not on limited time – but if she saw anything she particularly liked he fully intended to make a gift of it.

That turned out to be simpler than he expected. The only thing Winry seemed to find truly delightful was a small pair of silver earrings that dangled slightly, with the dangling part shaped like circles with a very intricate pattern of lines inside. "Ed," she whispered softly, holding them up closer for his inspection. "Am I imagining things or are these what I think they are?"

Curious, Ed gave them a closer look. He immediately understood what Winry meant. They _looked_ like transmutation circles! Far from functional as far as he could tell; there were several flaws. Still, it was almost certainly a coincidence… right? ::Excuse me, Madame,:: he politely addressed the woman who owned the shop. ::Could you please tell me the meaning of the symbols here? I have not seen them before.::

The middle-aged woman looked between Ed and Winry and smiled. ::I take it the lovely lady is interested?::

::Yes,:: Ed replied.

::A delightful happenstance,:: the woman chuckled. ::I make all the jewelry you see in my shop, and I like to have a variety of unique pieces. Not everything I make gets sent to Paris of course. My son-in-law is fascinated with history and had a book containing quite a number of ancient symbols with a variety of meanings. This one was rumored to be a love spell or at least a symbol of love and prosperity.::

No wonder she was smiling. Ed wondered if he was blushing as he thanked her and turned back to Winry. When he explained, she giggled and took them out of his hand. "Well I liked them before," she smiled, "but even if they're not real, I think I like the meaning even more."

"So do I," Ed admitted. "You should have them. They'd look good on you."

Winry chuckled. "As if you ever noticed my ears."

"What makes you think I haven't?" Ed grinned. "I noticed you only have two piercings in each now." He remembered when she'd had four. "And you have very pretty ears." He'd nibbled on them enough in the past couple of weeks to know.

"Someday I'm going to get used to compliments coming from you that aren't related to auto-mail," Winry teased, though he could tell she was pleased. "I just wish I had the money. It's not like they take sens here."

"Don't worry about it," Ed smiled. "Since when have I ever _not_ paid for something you wanted?" She had never had a problem taking advantage of his state paid salary when they were kids!

She looked like she wanted to object, but then Winry just shrugged and chuckled. "You have a point. Thank you, Ed. They're beautiful."

"So put them on," Ed grinned.

He paid the woman, who continued to smile knowingly at them after they left the shop. Ed dared to put his arm around Winry's shoulders as they walked down the street to the little café he had in mind for dinner. It wasn't fancy, much as he would have liked to really treat Winry to something high-end, but it was charming and romantic in its quaint French country décor and cuisine.

Ed ordered them the evening special, which turned out to be a fine local vegetable dish, a nice cut of veal – much more affordable in cattle country – and baked custard for dessert. With the small salad course that came first Ed had them bring out a bottle of wine. "The local cabernet is excellent," Ed smiled as the waiter poured them each a glass. He liked it for the full body and the mix of fruit and spices.

Winry gave him an odd look as she raised the glass to her lips and sipped delicately. "Very nice," she agreed after a moment. "I didn't think you liked wine."

"Only a few," Ed admitted with a chuckle. When he'd been a kid the stuff smelled foul. Still it seemed like a long time ago. He supposed a decade was a reasonably long time. "Hey, a guy's tastes are allowed to change right?"

"Does that mean you're going to start liking milk?" Winry asked coyly.

"Don't press your luck," Ed laughed, sipping his wine.

Dinner was delicious. They didn't rush, chatting while they ate and afterwards, mostly about inconsequential things; something Ed couldn't remember doing with Winry since they were little. They didn't talk about alchemy or auto-mail or anything that was casual public conversation, but Ed found it pleasant not to for once; he could just admire Winry in the candle light.

When all that was left was empty wine glasses, and an empty bottle, Winry smiled at him. "You know, I didn't have time to think about it the last time you were home, but you look good in a suit."

Ed's body warmed. "Thanks…I've kind of gotten used to it. It's just general attire here. You know me; I don't really care what I'm wearing if it's comfortable and not embarrassing."

Winry chuckled. "Well you look very handsome in it."

Maybe he'd had enough wine. Her compliments did not embarrass him as they had earlier. "Thanks. You know I think the last person to call me handsome was my mother?"

Was it a trick of the light or was there an added heat in the amusement in Winry's eyes? "Then it's been far too long, hasn't it?"

Ed grinned and shrugged. "I guess so." It was getting late, and the world seemed to swim a little in the candle light. A little air might be good about now. "We should start back."

"We should," Winry agreed reluctantly, standing as Ed held her coat for her. He had already paid. She took his arm and they headed back towards the Lannet's chateau.

It was a beautiful night, cloudless, with a sky full of stars and a nearly full moon. Ed felt his head clearing a little in the fresh chill air. The warmth of Winry pressed against his side was the perfect complement to the weather.

A small stream wound its way through the trees near the road, burbling in the night. As they walked along, Winry gave a wistful sigh. "I wish this didn't have to end, that we could have a night like this forever."

Ed gave her arm a squeeze, grinning. "Don't you think you'd get tired of it eventually?"  
"Maybe," Winry chuckled softly, "But it's so rare to find a moment of peace in the world…and have someone to share it with."

Ed paused on impulse, turning Winry to face him as one hand came up to her cheek. "Almost impossible," he agreed.

Winry stepped in slowly and kissed him then. Ed enfolded her willingly in his arms, losing himself in the moment; in the moonlight, the soft murmuring of the rambling brook; the sweet scent of lavender soap and Winry's skin; the taste of her. She was right; it would be nice if this night never had to end. If they never had to go back to chasing after idiots bent on destruction. Ed was getting tired of all the run-around, he had to admit, but that was the way of it. He couldn't just leave it to someone else; there was no one else but him and Al. One thing Ed knew for certain though; he would _never_ tire of Winry.


	2. Gratitute

_Author's Note:_ This poor scene has sat, lonely, on my computer for over a year. It takes place between Stories 5 and 6. So now, for Thanksgiving, I give you a moment when Roy got to be truly grateful. ;)

* * *

**February 4th, 1929**

Whatever had possessed him to want to be Fuhrer, Roy no longer entirely knew some days, and he'd been in the job for over ten years! He grumbled to himself as he sat in his home office/alchemy lab at the desk, a stack of paperwork covering most of it that had to be done tomorrow but had not gotten close to finished in the hours available in the regular workday.

So much for glamor, power, ultimate authority; Roy had the Assembly, bureaucracy, national budgetary concerns, paperwork, long hours, and stress induced indigestion.

Dinner was getting cold half-eaten near his elbow along with a cup of tea; baked chicken and asparagus with a cream sauce. With the headache he was getting Roy would have preferred coffee, or a good whiskey, but Riza had been irritatingly inflexible on drinking and eating more healthy of late. Of course, that wasn't really that unusual. She did it from time to time. Roy just ate what she put in front of him and groused only if he didn't like the way it was cooked. In truth, there were very few foods he wouldn't eat if they were prepared well; at least when he remembered to.

"Aren't you going to eat?" Riza commented from off to his left. He had left the door open, so he hadn't heard her enter.

Roy didn't look up from the figures and analytical evaluations of the various military headquarters over the past few months. "I'll reheat it later." He held up one ungloved hand and snapped his fingers indicatively.

"Not after last time," Riza snorted softly. "If you set anything else on fire this month I won't hire a repairman. You can do the work yourself."

"Fine, I'll use the oven then," Roy made a notation on the page. "Did you come in here just to nag me or was there some other pressing business?"

"I wanted your opinion," Riza replied, and suddenly three small squares of paper in different colors landed on the paperwork in front of his face. One was pale green, one light blue, and the other sunshine yellow. "Which do you like best?"

"Are we remodeling something?" Roy asked, picking the squares up since he couldn't avoid them otherwise. He might as well humor his wife. Riza didn't usually interrupt him when he was in a bad mood and had a legitimate deadline.

"The second bedroom," Riza replied simply, referring to the room that currently contained a guest bed. There was a third room upstairs, but it contained most of their military supplies, paraphernalia from over the years, knickknacks from trips, random artifacts, the non-alchemical library, and Riza's collection of fire arms. If they were remodeling something, the second bedroom was certainly the easiest.

"What's wrong with it?" Roy grumbled, eyeing the colors. "And what's with the pastels? Couldn't we go with something a little bolder?"

"What would you suggest?" Riza asked patiently.

Roy shrugged. Most of the house was fairly calm. The living room bright white with a few military-blue highlights in the décor – in the piping on the couch cushions and the pattern on the drapes – and his office a mellow bluish-green that was nice with the warm wood of the desk, cabinets, and counter space where he did his alchemy. The kitchen was also light, in white, cream, and accented in a couple of warm greens. Most of the house was like that. The rooms less used that were not used for entertaining were not heavily decorated. "How about red?" he turned his head so he could see her.

"An entirely red room?" Riza looked dubious. "Don't you think that might be a little much?"

"For whom?" Roy smirked. "We almost never have house guests."

"I still think one of these colors will be more appropriate," Riza sighed, taking the samples back. "Much more restful and appropriate."

"Appropriate to what?" Roy shook his head, looking back at his work. "I can't believe you want to talk about this now. Can't you see this is important?"

"So is this," Riza replied and, without warning, planted herself firmly in his lap!

"What are you doing?" Roy gasped, one arm going instinctively behind her so she wouldn't fall out of the chair – or take him with her!

"Subtlety is entirely lost on you," Riza replied with a shake of her head. Roy wasn't entirely sure if she was annoyed or amused; probably both.

"Obviously," Roy groused. What was going on here? He sighed and smiled wryly. "So why don't you tell me what is so _desperately_ important about redecorating our unused guest room that it has to be done now when I'm already looking at a sleepless night with nothing but this desk with my lamp and the dogs for company?"

Riza shook her head gently. "You're always so irritable. Is this how you're going to be when your son comes in and interrupts you to ask for something?"

Geez, talk about capricious this evening! "Well of course not," Roy scoffed in annoyance. "I…wait, what son?" A sneaking suspicion crept over him as he looked into Riza's expectant brown eyes, as if she was awaiting a particular response. But no…that wasn't possible.

Riza's mouth twisted into a knowing little smile. "Or daughter then, if you prefer, not that we have much say in the issue."

The world froze, the moment hanging suspended as the full impact of what Riza implied sank in to Roy's mind. Two years since they had decided to actually _try_ for it. Months without success, knowing that starting so late chances were getting slimmer every day. At a time when Roy had watched most of his friends get married and have children, he had waited…and in waiting, perhaps missed a wondrous opportunity. Hell, even _Edward_ had a two-year-old daughter! After a year of concerted effort, and still nothing, Roy had begun to lose hope, not that he had said a thing to Riza. It wasn't her fault. If anyone's, it was his. What if their inability to have children was a problem with _him?_ While they kept trying, they hadn't discussed it in months. But now, if what she was hinting at was true…

"You're sure?" Roy asked, surprised by how softly the words left his lips, a cracked whisper. His good eye searched her face, desperate for assurance.

"Affirmative," Riza chuckled, her arms lightly around his neck, eyes dancing with a light that he saw rarely, and only in the most private moments. "We only have about six months to get the room redecorated. Don't you think now that might be a relevant discussion?"

Heat, dampness… his cheek was wet! Roy pulled Riza into a close, tender embrace. "Oh god, Riza." Disbelief, then relief, and then joy surged through him in a way Roy had so very rarely felt it was overwhelming! "I thought…"

"I know, Roy," she replied softly, returning his hug fiercely.

"When?" He asked, loosening his grip just enough that he could sit back and see her face again. She looked normal; hair down, in brown slacks and a pale green blouse, and yet profoundly changed, just by his knowing that cradled in her womb was an unborn child; _their_ child.

"Late summer," Riza replied. "August more specifically."

Roy did a little quick math in his head. "That _is_ barely six months away! Riza, why didn't you say something sooner?" That put her a good three-and-a-half months along already. How long had she known?

"We wanted to be sure," Riza's expression was apologetic and gentle. "That is, the doctor and I wanted to make certain everything was going as it should before I said anything. I didn't want to disappoint you."

Disappoint him? "Riza you could never do that," he replied softly, kissing her to prove his sincerity. He didn't even have it in him to be angry that he hadn't known earlier. Her logic made too much damned sense. "You're incredible. This _news_ is incredible! Are you all right?" he asked then, realizing he hadn't yet! "I mean, you haven't seemed sick or tired or—" Or had she? Roy felt guilty as he realized he had been so wrapped up in work lately that he couldn't actually remember enough morning interaction with Riza to tell if she'd felt lousy or not!

Riza relaxed, removing her arms from his neck to rest her head against his shoulder. "Yes to both," she admitted, though she didn't sound upset. "Though the worst has just been recently. Of course," she chuckled, "The _worst_ has been finding anything that fits in my wardrobe. I own far too many pairs of fitted pants and tailored skirts." Her hand took one of his and very firmly pulled it downward, under her shirt, and lying it across her belly which, to his surprise – and embarrassment once more at having missed it – was not the flat plain he was familiar with, but just slightly rounded, soft yet firm; subtle to the eye still but much more evident to the touch! Damn, how long had it been since he'd taken enough time from work to make love to his wife? Or even just cuddled for that matter, that he had missed this!

Roy let his hand rest there, gently caressing the most surreal yet tangible evidence that there was most definitely a baby inside. "Get anything you want," he smiled. "Can't have you uncomfortable, either of you," he added, grin widening. "Got to have plenty of room."

"Of course," Riza replied with a soft chuckle, "If the baby's ego is as big as yours people will be asking if it's twins."

"Very funny," Roy grumped, but mostly in jest. The news had put him in far too good a mood to be irritated. Work could wait; the Assembly be hanged! Tonight, he wanted to do nothing more than sit just like this, alone with his wife and the most wonderful news he had ever received. They had always made a great couple; now, they would have the chance to be a great family.


	3. Rain and Coffee

_Author's Note: Nov 24th, 2011. Happy Thanksgiving! I am embarrassed that it's been so long since I tossed up another one of the Specials. So here, for everyone's enjoyment, is a little holiday treat._

This scene takes place right between stories 11 (Holding Out) and 12 (Unexpected). While the Elrics were enjoying their expanding family, and Jean Havoc and Heymans Breda were still very much single bachelor military officers... one rainy evening, Heymans Breda met a woman. For those of you who have read past that point, you will recognize her I expect. For those who have not... I won't say anything else. :) Enjoy!  


**October 12****th****, 1936**

"See you tomorrow, Jean," Breda waved as he left the bar and headed back towards HQ and the NCO Quarters. He and Havoc had spent the last three hours just hanging out and killing time over dinner, beers, and a few rounds of pool. It wasn't glamorous, but it was enjoyable. Who ever thought Generals – or any military officers – lived stylish or high-class lives really didn't spend much time around Central Headquarters.

The night was damp and chilly and it was raining lightly. Breda was glad he'd brought his umbrella and thought to wear a coat over his sweater. Though with a warm meal inside him he didn't really care much about the chill. It took a lot for him to feel cold weather anyway.

He was about half way back to HQ when Breda saw someone standing on the sidewalk a little ahead of him. As he got a little closer he realized it was a woman who appeared to be waiting for a ride. Or so he assumed from the way she was searching the road. The coat she was wearing was obviously not meant to keep off the rain though, and she was quickly getting soaked.

Breda walked up and, without thinking to ask, held his umbrella over her. She was only about an inch shorter than he was, so it took little effort.

Startled, she looked up, and Breda couldn't help but notice that she wasn't just _a_ woman waiting for a ride; she was a very _beautiful_ woman waiting for a ride; dark brown hair, and similarly brown eyes, mid-thirties maybe early forties? Nice curves… Breda couldn't help a quick glance at her hands – no rings. "Thank you," she smiled after a moment. "My ride is late."

"So I gathered," Breda cleared his throat and tried to seem a little less abrupt. "I hope I'm not, you know, intruding or anything."

She smiled and shook her head. She had really nice teeth too. "No. I appreciate the gesture. But I should call. Do you know where there's a phone I could use?"

"There's not a public phone for blocks," Breda admitted, thinking for a moment. "Tony's got one he'll probably let you use though," he said, remembering his friend who owned a pasta restaurant less than a block away.

"A friend of yours?" The woman asked.

"We go back a ways," Breda smiled, trying to sound casual. He made a valiant attempt to suck in his gut, but three helpings of cheese-smothered fries betrayed him. Still, he tried. "It's just down the block. If you like I'll show you where it is."

"I'd like that," she smiled. "I'm Nancy," she added as she turned in the direction he gestured.

"Heymans," he replied.

Together they walked down the block to Tony's restaurant. It was late in the evening and it looked like the place was just getting ready to close. But Tony – a large black-haired man Breda's age – grinned when he spotted them. "Good evening! You don't usually come in so late."

Breda smiled apologetically. "Not here for dinner tonight, Tony. The lady needs to use a phone. Her ride's left her standing in the rain."

Tony tsked loudly. "Well we can't have that now. I have a phone in the back you are welcome to use, Madame."

"Thank you," Nancy said, and then vanished into the back with Tony, who came back out by himself a moment later, grinning.

"Nice girl, Breda. Yours or are you just playing the gallant stranger?"

"The latter for now I'm afraid," Breda shrugged. "I happened to run into her on the street, standing in the rain."

"But many good love stories start just like that," Tony grinned. "It's been a while since you've had a date my friend."

Breda sighed. "You don't need to tell me twice. You lucked out you know." Tony had been married for fifteen years to a lovely woman and had two sons.

Nancy returned a moment later, looking resigned. "The car is having problems. He'll be at least an hour."

"Who are you waiting for, Madame?" Tony asked politely.

"My son," she replied. "He and his wife are visiting in town."

Son…Breda felt his chance flapping its way out the window. At least until Tony spoke up. "And your husband cannot come get you?"

Nancy shook her head. "I'm not married," she explained simply, then shook her head. "I just don't know what I'm going to do for an hour."

"Tell you what," Tony grinned. "I won't lock the doors just yet. Why don't you sit down and wait where you can see?"

Nancy's face lit up. "Thank you. That's very kind."

"Not a problem at all," Tony said as he turned and went into the back. "I have a little more work to do this evening anyway."

When he was gone, Breda wasn't entirely sure what to do. Technically he was no longer needed. The phone had been found, call made, arrangements determined. She had a son, but she wasn't married; good information to have even if it made things more complicated than he'd hoped. Not that he thought he had a shot. Still, he hated to miss so blatant an opportunity! "Well I'm glad you were able to get things worked out." Did that sound as lame as he thought it did? He desperately hoped not.

"Thank you for the help tonight," Nancy was still smiling. "Without you I'd still be standing out in the rain."

"It was nothing," Breda smiled, abashed. "I couldn't just leave you like that. Hey, you want a cup of coffee or something? My treat."

He was braced for a polite refusal, but she surprised him. "I'd like that."

"Two coffees coming up!" Tony's voice came from the back.

Nancy's face flushed pink, and Breda wondered why as he bellowed back, "Whatever happened to customer privacy, Tony?"

"It's supplanted by quick service," the man countered.

"He's got me there," Breda chuckled, turning back to Nancy. "Please don't mind him, he's always like that." He turned and pulled out a chair at the nearest table that had a view of the street.

Nancy sat down then grinned coyly up at him as he stood there. "At ease, General."

What? "How'd you know?" Breda asked as he took the seat across from her.

Nancy chuckled. "You'll forgive me I hope, but you're rather distinctive. There just aren't that many men matching your description with the name _Heymans;_ especially not in Central."

Now he couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed. It _was_ a logical conclusion. "Please, just call me Heymans. Or Breda; everyone else does."

"All right," she smiled. "I hope it doesn't bother you that I recognized you."

"Nah," he shook his head. "It probably worked in my favor anyway. If you hadn't known who I was, would you have let me walk you anywhere or even stood under my umbrella?"

"Not likely," Nancy agreed as Tony brought out two cups of coffee, as well as sugar and cream. As used to the sludge of HQ as Breda was, he really preferred his coffee sweeter given the option. While he used copious amounts of both, he noticed that Nancy used only a little cream, no sugar, and sipped slowly. "I'm not used to getting picked up on the street by handsome men."

Breda felt his neck flush at the unexpected compliment. It had only gotten harder to get dates lately. About all he had going for him were brains and rank, and being a General seemed to bring out either the girls hunting status or scare them off completely. Either way it made for a lot of dateless nights. But here was a woman who didn't appear to be of either ilk. He smiled. "Thanks. Though I'm surprised it doesn't happen to you more often, a pretty girl like you."

It was Nancy's turn to blush, and she definitely looked beautiful doing it. "No one's called me a _girl_ in years," she admitted. "I have a full grown son and I'm thirty-nine… for another month."

"No one's called me handsome in years," Breda countered, feeling on slightly surer footing. "I'm fifty, I can beat anyone in Central at any strategy game there is, but I'm about as athletic as a hibernating bear."

"If it makes you feel better, I'm known for having horrendously poor taste," Nancy replied, but she was obviously teasing. "My late husband had a crooked nose from a fight he got in years back. I thought it gave him character. I've always found men with minds extremely attractive." She actually_ winked _at him.

"Lucky me." Breda was beginning to think he had to be hallucinating this. The woman was almost too good to be true! Still, there was one thing that bothered him, and he might be killing his chances with the question but… "What happened to him? Your husband I mean."

Nancy didn't look hurt or stung. "Johann Richards was a soldier, a Lieutenant, in the Drachman dispute. He was stationed at Briggs when we were married. Mitchell, my son, was ten at the time."

"I'm sorry to hear it," Breda replied. That had to have been hard. "So you moved to Central then?"

Nancy nodded and sipped her coffee. "I grew up in Central, so we came home. Mitchell and his wife live up in North City now. He's in real estate."

The conversation drifted. They talked about themselves a little more, but then the topic changes to other things; film, art, chess… food. They agreed on some things, not on others, but overall Breda was surprised at just how much they had in common. He was truly sorry when she looked up and spotted someone outside the window.

"That's Mitchell," she smiled, writing something quickly then standing to put her coat back on. Breda stood and held it for her. "Thanks again for the help, Heymans, and the coffee," she smiled.

"Anytime," he smiled. The hour had gone by far too quickly.

"That a promise?" she asked playfully as she reached out towards him.

Breda looked down, briefly confused as she slipped a piece of paper into his hand. "What's this?"

Nancy laughed; a bright, beautiful sound. "My phone number. How else are you ever going to ask me out on another date? Dinner next time? I get off work at five."

"Uhh…yeah," Breda grinned at the open invitation as he watched her head out the door. He stood there for several seconds, watching her hug the younger man who was obviously her son then get in the car. The car pulled away into the rainy fall night.

"Smooth moves, old dog," Tony chuckled. Breda hadn't even heard him walk up.

Breda chuckled, looking down at the note with the phone number on it. "I'm not sure who just got _picked up _tonight, man, her or me!"

Tony smiled. "Does it matter?"

"No, no it doesn't." Breda folded the slip of paper and stuck it carefully in his wallet. It was a safe bet that he'd be calling it tomorrow!


End file.
